The 49th Hunger Games
by Harry190
Summary: Arvid Crewsby, the 16-year old boy from District 7, suppliers of wood for the Capitol grew up with his father a single parent from the tragic death of his mother at birth Arvid is brought into a life of hardship. Mastering the arts of the lumberjack with lifetime best friend Eila, the two grow close together. But with the public reaping upon them, their time together is limited...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

District 7

Standing on the partially raised platform underneath my feet just a few centimetres from the ground, grass lay in front. The sound of the birds singing joyfully in the trees reminds me of home. Home-I fall into thought of my beloved district. Birds similar to that of the arena chirp happily above. Hands dusty from the remnants of a fallen tree, palms sweaty and coarse. Lifting the freshly cut logs and placing them into the pile ready to be sent to the Capitol, we people of district 7 are the suppliers of wood.

My father taught me from a very young age, ever since I could stand. Mother passed away as a result of my birth, I was an only child. Father took full responsibility, taking in both roles of a mother and father.

Lifting me up and placing me on his shoulders, he would walk through the woods pointing out particular trees and evaluating their uses. Pine, ash-wood, oak, yew, willow and the occasional birch tree seemed all so similar at my young age yet all seemed to play a significant part in District 7. I grew up, studying from my father like this until my tenth birthday. He presented me with my uncle's axe which he prized so dearly. Father never talked much about my uncle, he only mentioned he passed away in one of the Hunger games many years ago. The smooth glossed handle seemed to hold with excellent grip.

The tempered axe head, slightly worn from years of hard work appeared blunt. My father trained me to use this axe, swinging overhead and down with tremendous force and accuracy. To shift my weight to cut a tree correctly so much that it would fall in the opposing direction.

With my passing years the skills I possessed with this axe strengthened. At the age of 12 I could make a tree collapse that was 18 foot tall, without becoming tiresome. My training proved to become effective and the handiness of my axe may one day I believed, would come of other uses, as all citizens from the 12 districts of Panem at the age of 12 are entered into a public reaping.

Father attempted to discourage me from putting my name in more times but the importance of the grain proved too valuable. Tesserae became a critical key to survival, father was becoming elderly and unfit to work. Arthritis was settling in, and the pain my father felt seemed almost unbearable so as the doctor instructed, father quit his job as a lumberjack. At the age of twelve I became the main supplier of our food and adopting the role of parenthood. Becoming dependent upon me, my father tried to help out as best he could by trips to the market and sharpening my tools on the grind stone.

The reaping once I was 13 became more of a shock to me. Standing and dreading the names to be called out, we all waited in uncomfortable silence. A feeling of relief came flooding in until it was blocked by a sudden shock. The neighbouring boy and girl to me both had their names called. My throat began to swell, holding back the tears in my eyes. Those were the people I grew up with, innocent and kind people. A realisation hit me, within the games there may only be one winner. Even if both managed to become successful against the odds-One of them would have to die for the other to be victorious. I refused to watch the games as much I could, I did not watch unless we were forced in the town square. The two died together several moments after the games had begun, the little girl attempted to pull her brother away from the cornucopia but instead it resulted in attracting attention and the careers to them. Afterwards my visual of the games became more attuned and focused, if I was to enter these games against my will, who would care for father if I died?

This thought rushed my mind for days, the list of people was not large but all were capable of my trust. Finally reaching my conclusion I turned to my closest friend, Eila. She was brown-haired with deep blue eyes. She was not short nor tall, she and I neared the same height with me slightly taller.

We met when we were young, in the woods on one of father's leisurely walks. I had strolled off as father instructed to gather bark from certain trees, a game we used to play. Searching for a grand oak tree, which proved to be an impossible task, I found Eila observing her surroundings. Appearing lost and unfamiliar to these parts as a lost child looking for their mother.

"You're rather far out for a person uncommon to these parts of the woods" I said.

"And you're rather nosey for a person in these parts of the woods" replied Eila, lightly chuckling as she spoke.

Moving towards Eila taking gentle strides to avoid tripping on the vast greenery and branches scattered along the vast Forrest floor, giving a friendly laugh and slight tilt of my head I spoke.

"Well, I thought you could use some help. My names Arvid"

"Arvid? That's interesting" Eila said with a smile "Well then Arvid. I'm Eila, nice to meet you"

After our first encounter we began to see more of each other, we would discuss our knowledge of the woods and our district. I taught Eila what my father had taught me of precision with the axe, swinging it correctly and slicing the wood with a perfect clean cut.

Eila taught me in return how to identify bushes within our district, anything edible within the work place as we were not allowed many hours of rest or breaks, Eila showed what was edible as we searched for trees during work.

We did not do proper work as in every district you cannot begin your district's main production until 18, however we began training and expanding our knowledge ready for it.

In the woods alone with Eila one day, we began to discuss the games. Far deep into the woods, where there were no cameras or peacekeepers to hear your discussion. We talked of particular years, what could be expected of the arena this year. We came across the subject of tactics in the games, what to do. Playing a 'what if' game and how to deal with such an occasion.

Eila's tactic was to run to a backpack placed far out of the cornucopia with little danger and rush into the wilderness whilst the 'Careers' focused within the bloodbath. From then on she would survive till the careers eliminated the other tributes and themselves, leaving her and another tribute, a career. She would try to set up traps, use her surroundings to her advantage if she could and when the career is downed or injured she would bludgeon them to death with any piece of surrounding materials.

From this we trained mentally what would kill us and what would maintain our survival, however as it being the games it would be unpredictable and tougher than it sounded. We agreed that if one of us was to be reaped that the other would help out their family. This gave me piece of mind knowing my father would be safe and cared for despite my death. But weeks after my 16th birthday, everything changed for me.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Reaping

Me and Eila spent our time as we do in the woods talking, perched high up in an oak tree of which was the very same tree in the place we met. I observed her for a while, the reaping later began to matter to me. My thought casted on Eila, what I would do, how I would feel if she was entered into this year's games. My heart sank with terror.

"Eila?" I asked

Eila sat up straight and turned to me, the concern on her expression was evident.

"What's wrong Arvid? You've been acting strange the last hour or so"

Her voice was soft yet stern. She looked directly into my eyes, anticipating for a response.

"I just-I. Eila, promise me something. I can't express how much I hope it doesn't, but if your name was called out, promise me you wouldn't give up"

Looking into her eyes as she did mine, the back of my throat remained swollen making swallowing difficult.

"I don't know if I could cope-" cut off all of a sudden by her. Eila leaned over rapidly, within a split second we were face to face. Her lips pressed against mine, slightly startled by this and shocked yet I felt satisfaction from it. I could feel the heat radiating from her, the softness of her skin against mine, yet leather-like from years of hardship. Everything became slower, wanting this moment to last longer and valuing every second.

Pulling away, I could feel her smile against me.

"I promise" she said softly.

For a few seconds we sat there, face to face staring into each other's eyes and smiling. Breaking into spontaneous chuckling and laughter between us, I felt a colossal urge of happiness rise up within me. This girl is the one I will love forever, the one I will marry, the one who will one day hopefully be the mother of my children.

Walking back to our homes hand in hand, Eila and I spoke of a different topic this time and not of trees. We spoke of a future together. Where we lived together, we could save some of our money to buy a little bungalow or small house somewhere in the district. Where she and I could spend our week day evenings at work, come home and be happy together. Where in the future, we would spend our life's together. A happy future.

Before we split to go our own ways to our houses to prepare for the reaping we stopped. Looking into her eyes again I became lost in them. A deep blue beautiful abyss inside, I searched them for reassurance when happiness and excitement came up to meet me.

Leaning forward and gently kissing her again, I made sure every second counted.

With a clear and meaningful voice I spoke "I'll see you there. Don't take too long. I love you"

Reaching up slightly, she kissed me again.

"I love you too" she said as she pulled away. Turning around, only looking back to wave with a content and joyful smile

With a clean shirt and trousers on, I was ready for the reaping. I came downstairs to my father as I do every year and hugged him tightly. Every year we make it to feel like it is our last goodbye, there is no time to waste with the games.

As I leave I tell him I love him and receive a similar response. The stroll to the town centre is not a long one, on the way I pass the tall forestry and strongly built log cabins. Engraved on the doors are our traditional emblem, these are our peacemaker's quarters used as a kind of barracks. Unlike all other districts, the vast majority of peacekeepers here are kind and friendly, but not all. One in particular, Therol, happens to hate everyone in our district, even a lot of the other peacekeepers. Reaching the town centre I step into the queue line for the reaping, boys and girls of all ages, all wearing similar coloured clothes and tattered faces wait in an orderly queue.

Approaching the stand of peacekeepers they take grasp my hand with a firm grip and take a sample of my blood to confirm my presence. I line up with all the other boys of my age. All of them happen to be different heights and wide spread complexions, mainly all are black or brown haired with green eyes.

The hectic shuffle of feet behind of those queuing can be heard from a fair distance. Peacekeepers march into position, creating an intimidating human pen as you would keep cattle. As the last few people come through and order themselves into their lines the audience falls silent and still.

A tall grey haired man stands at the front of the stage. Adjusting his tie which happens to be a fluorescent green, perhaps to represent our districts colour. He wears a blue suit and trousers, with a white shirt. Capitol people always happen to have a peculiar fashion to us.

He moves closer to the microphone stand and his voice bellows through the audience.

"Good evening people of district 7! I am proud to announce that once more, the annual hunger games is upon us and one of each of you young lucky men and women will take the glorious honour of representing your district in the 49th annual hunger games" He moved over to the first glass bowl full of names. As customary the female tribute is chosen first. He once again adjusts his tie and suit.

"Now. Time to select a female tribute!"

His hands swerve around in the glass bowl, finally pulling out a slip of paper.

Silence is upon us all for a few seconds, everyone is anxious as to who it will be, who will be condemned to this fate. Tension between us builds higher and higher, until he speaks.

"Alona Lusbey"

Elia's older sister Alona.

My heart sinks again, racing at a tremendous pace. Sweating and becoming clammy. I glance over quickly to Eila, she is near tears. I so desperately want to run over to her and tell her it will be okay and that her sister will make it through. But in the hunger games, for a district like us our chances run scarce.

Alona walks towards the platform, almost demonstrating sheer confidence and cockiness. She does not seem phased by this as if she was a volunteering career tribute. She stands by the presenter, posture tall and strong. Blue eyes, similar to Eila's slowly scan the audience. Her dark black hair like charcoal makes her eyes appear much more prominent. Her appearance would be sure to attract many sponsors being one of the most attractive girls within our district. Eila begins to shuffle slightly, to ready herself to volunteer but the confident blue eyes of Alona catches sight of Eila with a look to say 'do not be foolish'.

The old man shifts over to the next bowl, clapping as he moves.

"Good show! Good show! You'll be excellent in these games I can tell! Now. For the boy"

His hand dives into the bowl once more as before, pulling out another slip of paper with a name on it. However this time, it is not the name of someone else that shocks me. It is my own.

"Arvid Crewsby"

My senses become numb. This world of mine becomes unfamiliar. I must be dreaming. I must be.

No. I'm not dreaming, this is real. It has to be real, Eila loves me but if it is-I'm going to die. I pinch myself. This is real. This is happening. Speechless I make progress towards the walkway.

My mind turns to Eila. Her sister and the boy she loves, how much she must be suffering. I look to her, to give her assurance, that I am okay. She looks back, the confusion in her expression, even she cannot determine if what she is viewing is a dream. In her eyes, she feels lost, hopeless. Too much emotion to cope with. I mouth the words 'I love you' to her, a tear forms in the corner or her eye and trickles down her cheek. With trembling lips 'I love you too' she imitates back to me.

I turn away to the stage, to resist crying. Walking up the stairs and on to the stage while the man applauds me, the audience remains silent. Alona can be seen staring at me. Seeing the scene of what just happened between myself and Eila. She must have told her what happened in the woods, it's evident from the expression given from her. The cocky and confident career-like girl now appears to be sympathetic and heartbroken towards me. Even she appears to be struggling to hold back the tears, too much emotion surrounds us all.

As I stand helplessly on the stage, Alona to my left and the overjoyed elderly man between us I position my feet, head slightly tilted upwards to avoid eye contact with Eila which would surely break me I take a deep breath. Exhaling I look to the forest in the horizon, it feels such a distance away. This is the last I will ever see of it before my death, slowly closing and opening my eyes to clear the water from them without allowing tears to form I look onwards, still and silent.

"Well that does it! This years tributes Alona Lusbey and Arvid Crewsby!"

We turn to each other, looking face to face in companionship. Hands reaching forward and shaking together as customary. But for us it is different, her gentle grip and softness of touch assures me of her relation to me. We are friends, not enemies. When that clock reaches zero, when all chaos breaks loose. We will fight together, not against.


End file.
